


François's Moustache

by gimmefire



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-09
Updated: 2008-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmefire/pseuds/gimmefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Australia 2007. <i>"You have to keep still. Do you want this to look stupid?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	François's Moustache

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by [](http://tasyfa.livejournal.com/profile)[tasyfa](http://tasyfa.livejournal.com/). Inspired by Felipe's comments during the SPEEDtv interview at the '07 US GP that he was the one who did Kimi's then-new tattoo.

" _Caralho!_ " Felipe cursed, causing Kimi to laugh. This earned him a slightly hazy glare from his diminutive team mate and the business end of a marker pen waving threateningly in his face. "You have to keep still. Do you want this to look stupid?"

Kimi grinned. "It looks stupid already," he retorted, pulling out of Felipe's grasp to reach for his cocktail. "You're not a very good artist."

Felipe scowled and yanked him back into place by the arm, and Kimi could only yelp in protest as his drink sloshed over the bed. "If you don't keep still I'll give you a moustache as well." He held Kimi's forearm down with his own, tongue poking out between his lips as he put pen to skin. "A big curly one, like a French one. The team will call you François and everybody will make noises like 'honh honh honh' every time you walk past."

Kimi looked contemplative, the rim of his glass pressing against his bottom lip as he watched Felipe work. "You would really do that?"

"I would!" Felipe replied, pausing and looking at the Finn with raised eyebrows to show just how serious he was. After a pause, he offered a compromise. "But then I would draw one on me too, because we're a team."

Kimi's lips curved up slightly at that, and he supped down the rest of his drink. Felipe continued to concentrate on the work of art he was creating on the other man's right forearm, dragging the tip of the marker pen over pale skin and leaving ever growing black swirls and spikes. Alcohol had been a factor in deciding that this needed to be done, and Kimi was clearly of the opinion that he hadn't had enough. Looking over his shoulder towards the minibar, he suddenly lurched away from Felipe, causing the exclamation of another colourful Brazilian curse as the younger man scored a long black line straight through his design.

" _Kimi!_ "

The Finn looked at him blankly, holding up his empty glass as he struggled to stand up with dignity. "Do you want me to get you another drink as well?"

Felipe pointed to his now obviously ruined artwork, sounding genuinely dismayed. "Look what you did!"

Kimi did indeed look, and after a moment or two he looked back up to Felipe, nonplussed. "But _you're_ the one with the pen..."

Felipe frowned, puffed his cheeks out in mock outrage and lunged for the other man, grabbing his arm and yanking him back. Kimi stumbled and fell back onto the bed, bouncing a few times and giving an 'oof' as Felipe bounced onto the bed himself and crawled across Kimi's lap, grasping that wayward arm and pinning it down.

Kimi huffed and watched his glass slip out of his hand and roll across the bed, the last dreg of liquid leaving a dark semi-circle on the sheets. He brought his gaze back to Felipe, still sprawled across him and drawing merrily away over his forearm. When the Brazilian slipped his fingers into Kimi's hand to turn his arm over to work on the underside, Kimi's rather stony expression softened, and he smiled a little. Hand-in-hand became meshed fingers, eliciting a giggle from Felipe, followed by the gentle arch of his back as Kimi's free hand moved to slip under his shirt and stroke at the tanned skin beneath. The Brazilian smiled and finished his 'tribal tattoo' with a flourish. "What do you think?"

Kimi smirked. "I think that you're lying in my lap."

Felipe gave him a look, pouting a little, and Kimi responded by pushing himself up onto his elbow and catching that pout with a kiss. Hands roamed, shirts were tugged off with some vodka martini-induced difficulty, and just as Felipe seemed to forget about getting an opinion on the 'tattoo' and Kimi seemed to forget about getting another cocktail, the two of them appeared to have a moment of synergy. Amidst childish giggling and wrestling, both drivers scrambled for the hitherto forgotten pen.

 

It was hard to tell if Jean was amused or despairing; his expression wasn't giving much away.

"I tried to wash it off," Kimi murmured, rubbing at the partially faded black moustache on his top lip. At least, with the collar of his jacket pulled up high, Jean hadn't seemed to notice 'François' scrawled down the side of his neck. Jean's gaze turned to Felipe, similarly rueful and stood before the team principal as if being disciplined by the headmaster. The Brazilian glanced at his partner in crime and shrugged sheepishly.

"I didn't think it really meant 'permanent'," he mumbled, sporting a moustache - with matching goatee - of his own. Somewhere in the background of the garage, various mechanics chuckled to themselves and made 'honh honh honh' noises. Jean glowered in their direction, then looked back to the two drivers. After some very long moments, the hint of a smirk twitched around his lips, and he indicated over his shoulder.

"The press conference is that way," he said.


End file.
